


Truth is Grey

by ivanolix



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, Porn Battle, Porn With Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:31:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanolix/pseuds/ivanolix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the episode Reckoning when Nicholas is just over a year old. Written for the lots_pornbattle  prompts "lies" and "guilt".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth is Grey

Kahlan walked to the royal bedchamber with swift determination. To be true, Darken hadn't specified that he wanted another heir this night, but Kahlan cared not if she caught him with one of the Mord'Sith now. It would only add to her cause. She grew sick of this.

Her husband stood at the window, clad in an evening robe while he watched the stars and waited for her. The moonlight glinted off his sable hair and lit his profile. It always looked arrogant. Kahlan hated how well that seemed to flatter him. He turned, and raised an eyebrow at her garb—she had not bothered to strip out of her queen's dress. "My queen..."

"My lord," she replied coolly, crossing the room with arms stiff at her sides. "I'm not here tonight to give you another heir."

He turned from the window to face her, his expression and tone unreadable. "I see."

Kahlan found it difficult to frame her irritation into coherent words, and they didn't sound right when she said them, even with a voice as chill as January ice. "I am your wife, Lord Rahl, not your concubine. I expect to receive more of your notice then whenever you feel like furthering your line." Despite the tone, she could feel her eyes hot with fire.

To see an answering fire in his eyes surprised her a little. Darken Rahl stepped forward and seized her hand, drawing it close to his chest as he looked down at her. "I thought," he said in a dangerous voice, "that you could not bear the sight of me. For the sake of our realm, I think we should have more than one child; I did not wish to _bother_ you with anything but what was necessary. Are you saying my judgment was mistaken?"

Kahlan sucked in a swift breath, biting back the instant retort on her lips. It took her full effort to keep her gaze from faltering. Damn him. She slipped her fingers from his grip, voice low and sharp. "You forced me into this marriage, what do you expect?"

"Perhaps for you to see my actions as respect, not the opposite," he answered with just as much heat, finding her hand again and gripping it. "Would you have been happier if I seduced you, Kahlan? Would that have soothed your hurt pride or made you loathe me even more?"

"All I loathe about you is your arrogance and your need for control," she hissed, blood rising.

"Don't lie to me," he sneered, "you cringe whenever I show any affection or kindness towards you or Nicholas. You would rather I beat you."

The air hissed past Kahlan's teeth only an instant before her other hand rose and she nearly struck him. For the length of a few breaths neither moved. Darken holding Kahlan's hand almost possessively, while her hand hovered an inch from his cheek. Their eyes burned like the embers in the hearth.

Then he slipped close, his thumb rising to brush along her jaw. Before she knew what had changed, Darken kissed her. Kahlan's heart raced for a dozen different reasons, but fear was not one of them and she didn't pull back. Neither did he, and his words vibrated against her lips when he finally spoke. "Do you prefer this? Do you want proof that I honor you as the Mother Confessor?"

Close enough. Kahlan breathed back, reckless with the innate sense of authority that she could not suppress forever, "Yes. If it truly matters to you, prove that you ask this of me with worthy intentions. I'm your wife, not your tool." She barely knew what words were escaping her lips, emotions all in a tangle, but when he kissed her again it felt like a victory. This time he was playing along to her tune.

She could still make this life tolerable.

For all that she didn't like this man, and found most of his former actions repulsive, it had been two whole years without any intimate touch. Her body had needs that didn't consult her mind. Darken's lips and fingers traversed her skin with more familiarity than he had a right to, and her blood heated with irritation as she felt near-defiance in the deliberate worship of her skin. "Don't mock me," she warned before she could hold the words back. Tonight was a night where caution evaded her grasp.

Fingers locked in the intricate lacing of her bodice, Darken pushed her back until the backs of her legs hit the mattress, his breath hot on her neck. "If I was mocking, you would not be able to speak. I would rather show my admiration." And before she could reply, his lips were on her pulse again, dangerously persuasive.

Kahlan's breath hitched, and she didn't know what to do with her hands. The bodice of the dress slipped around her waist and his mouth followed, tongue tracing each curve of her, his lips feeling both eager and deliberate as he teased her skin. She shivered, thoughts spinning so she couldn't grab a particular one. Since their wedding night he'd always been gentle with her, more than he had to be, but this was different. This was not merely consideration, a duty to be "kind" to the woman he married. This was more. This was intimate.

She'd demanded this, to be treated with special care, but she didn't know what to make of the results. Over and over, she kept telling herself that she didn't want _him_ and that was the problem. So why didn't she want him to stop? Why didn't she freeze up, turn her mind elsewhere? As he pushed her back to the bed, lips never leaving her skin while he stripped her of the encumbering dress, the only answer she had was a gasp when his touch brushed over a sensitive spot.

The tension, the discord between them, demanded a release. To have him do her will, even if she hadn't considered just what she was asking at the time, gave this a thrilling aspect. Anger mingled with her body's need, ignored for far too long, and Kahlan told herself that all this explained the way she had to swallow little gasps of excitement. Lying back, she curled her fingers around the silk sheets and gripped them, feeling Darken's lips trail down her belly and feeling the tingling sensation in her loins increase. She would not hate herself for not hating this—it was different.

In a last ditch effort to make all this right, she tried to conjure up the image of Richard. Head tipping back as Darken spread her thighs, she trembled at the new—but welcome—sensation and called to mind the one and only love of her life. He was only a vague picture now, details forgotten after so long an absence, but it was enough. Eyes closed to hold the image in place, she clenched her hands in the sheets and arched, for the first time realizing all the pleasure that lips and tongue could bring. Richard was all she could allow herself to think on as her body arched, writhing under the pure worship happening between her thighs.

Physical pleasure was not entirely unknown to her, even in this marriage, but it had never been anything like this. The world swirled and closed in around her, logical thought lost in the haze of arousal, and before she knew it Kahlan heard little cries of need and delight escape her control. She had never been so close to bliss. Her back arched. "Richard," she begged breathlessly.

Everything stopped.

Her facade crashed around her as Darken's hand tightened around her right thigh, just enough to pain her. Kahlan's blood still throbbed with desire, but the rest of her was frozen as she silently cursed herself. Overconfidence had made her go too far, and she didn't want to think of what would happen next. Neither did she dare to move; Kahlan lay naked, breathless on the bed.

Darken pushed himself up to his knees, closing her legs with a little push as if in disgust. When his eyes flicked up to hers, the lack of anger made her unable to look away. Raw humiliation and betrayal made his eyes seem hollow as tombs ready for burial.

Kahlan waited, not daring to breathe, for the anger to come. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest, drowning out the throb of arousal that had yet to fade. But he didn't even touch her. His eyes dropped and he rose from the bed, hands arching and back stiff. One last flick of his eyes to hers, and then he walked from the room.

She'd seen hurt in those eyes, before he masked them. And it was more than she could bear. This was not how things were supposed to be.

Trembling with far too much emotion, Kahlan pulled herself from the bed and yanked on a night shift. The sheets were still warm and smelling of sex when she slid back beneath them.


End file.
